


There's Something About Mary

by Ordered_Chaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eileen lives, Episode: s12e21 There's Something About Mary, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Mary regrets everything, Screenplay/Script Format, Spoilers, all the plot points will be the same, i'm just gonna try to do it...., if that's possible...., in a more palatable way......, seriously i'm just rewriting this episode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ordered_Chaos/pseuds/Ordered_Chaos
Summary: Another take on how this episode could have gone. SPOILERS.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> This fic reads like the script for an actual episode. This first chapter is the teaser. Many things would have been better than the teaser we actually got in the episode. I hope you enjoy this one. (I'm only a little bit salty, don't know if you can tell....)
> 
> (O.S.) = character speaking off-screen

**TEASER**

INT. BUNKER - VARIOUS - NIGHT

Empty hallways. Empty library. Empty kitchen. The only signs of life are the empty beer bottles on the counter.

                MARY (O.S.)  
                Sam? Dean?

 

INT. BUNKER - WAR ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Mary shuts the bunker door behind herself with the usual resonant CLANG. She holds fast-food bags in one hand, a six-pack in the other.

                MARY  
                Boys?

She descends the stairs, puzzled. The war room, like the rest of the rooms we’ve seen, is empty.

Mary puts her peace offering on the table. She goes into the hallway, searching.

 

INT. BUNKER - HALLWAY OUTSIDE ROOM 11 - CONTINUOUS

Mary approaches Dean’s room. The door is closed. Its brass ‘11’ darkens when Mary blocks the light reflecting off it.

She reaches to knock... Once, twice.

                MARY  
                Dean?

There’s no answer. After a moment of hesitation, Mary reaches for the doorknob. It’s not locked.

 

INT. BUNKER - DEAN’S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Mary sticks her head inside.

                MARY  
                Dean? Hey, I brought --

He’s kneeling beside his bed, his back to the door. His head is bowed, buried in his hands. Mary looks worried.

                MARY (CONT’D)  
                Dean?

Dean turns. His eyes are open wide, the flat gold of a WEREWOLF. His claws grow, and dig into the bedspread.

Mary backs up into the hallway. Dean turns his head away, his whole body locked up with the effort of staying still.

                DEAN  
                Mom.... Run....

His voice is strained, painful. Mary’s back hits the wall opposite his door. Her eyes are huge.

                MARY  
                Oh, Dean.

He groans, the sound morphing into an animal WHINE. His lips pull back in a grimace, and we see his teeth elongating. A sound behind him makes him whip around.

Mary stands over him. Dean startles back, desperate to be away from her, and falls onto his bed. Mary reaches toward his neck.

She pins him there.

Dean’s werewolf eyes meet hers. He gasps. She has one hand behind her back.

                DEAN  
                Mom?

Mary plunges a SILVER KNIFE into his chest. Dean SCREAMS. She shuts her eyes.

                MARY  
                I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry.

One of his hands jerks out, grasping her wrist.

                DEAN  
                ...Mom...

His claws dig convulsively into her skin, drawing blood. Mary gasps, opens her eyes --

 

INT. BRITISH MEN OF LETTERS - PRISON CELL - CONTINUOUS

\-- and she’s in a tiled, octagonal room, lying on her side on a tiny cot. A heavy, locked door stands opposite her.

Mary sits up. Her face is gaunt, her eyes red, her skin shiny with sweat. She hangs her head. Her eyes fall to her arm. Small, inflamed cuts ring her wrist. As though a desperate hand had clutched her there.

**END OF TEASER**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duration: 3 minutes
> 
> So what do you think? Should I keep going? Or is this episode irredeemable?


	2. Act I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue in this chapter is from the actual episode. I do not intend copyright infringement or plagiarism. I'm just trying to stay as true to canon as possible while fundamentally rewriting the episode. All actual dialogue belongs to the writers.

**ACT ONE**

INT. MARY’S RECENT MOTEL ROOM - DAY

Mary’s been staying in the same sort of room Sam and Dean grew up in. Only difference is the single bed; it’s got a ratty blanket, rickety table, in-suite kitchen that’s probably seen more sex than cooking.

The lights are off, and hardly any sunlight comes through the gauzy curtains. All we can see is the messy bed, the stillness of a once lived-in room.

The lock CLICKS. Dean opens the door, putting away his lock-pick kit. He looks around at the shadows, feeling for the light switch.

The lights flicker on. The room is just as empty as it was in darkness, but with a widespread green theme.

Dean walks into the room, Sam behind him.

                DEAN  
                Mom?

They start to search for her. Sam checks the closet. Dean checks the bathtub.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                Looks like she hasn’t been here for a while.

Sam turns around in the other room.

                SAM  
                Yeah. All her stuff is gone. Did she say she was moving on, or...?

                DEAN  
                I told you what she said. She said, “Dean, call me. We have a problem.” And then that was it. She didn’t sound happy.

He shakes his head as he rejoins Sam in the main room.

                SAM  
                Well, when she’s not here, she’s been bunking with the Brits, so maybe --

                DEAN  
                Dude, I called Mick like six times. He’s been radio silent since they sent him to London.

He pulls out his phone, thumbing through contacts. Sam looks around, taking in the empty food packages abandoned on the table. Dean turns his back, dialing a number.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                    (to the phone)  
                Ketch. Calling to see if my mom’s with you.

A pause.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                It’s Dean. Winchester.  
_(you ass)_  
                Because I’d like to speak to her, that’s why. No, I’m not being terse. Look, if you haven’t seen her, do you know where she is? No, I’m not being curt either.

Sam looks grateful he’s not on the phone with Ketch.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                I don’t have time for Manners 101 with you, okay? If she’s with you, I wanna know about it.  
                      (pause)  
                Fine.

He hangs up.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                Such a dick.

                SAM  
                And?

Dean turns around, still glaring at his phone.

                DEAN  
                Says he hasn’t seen Mom in over a week.

                SAM  
                But Mom called two days ago, said she was working a case with him.

Dean grimaces.

                DEAN  
                Which means he’s lying. Or she was.

Sam rolls his eyes.

                SAM  
                Why would she lie?

                DEAN  
                You think she wouldn’t?

Sam turns away, running a hand over his hair.

                SAM  
                All I know is she’s missing, Dean. Third hunter in two weeks, as far as we’ve heard....

                DEAN  
                Roy and Walt both turned up.

                SAM  
                And what if the same thing got her that got them?

                DEAN  
                Don’t jump to conclusions. Two’s not a pattern.

                SAM  
                Three would be.

                DEAN  
                Sam --

                SAM  
                People who do what we do.... There are always gonna be deaths, but....

                DEAN  
                Stop it, Sam. Mom’s a hunter.

                SAM  
                And no one knows where she is.

 

EXT. IMPALA - NIGHT

Baby roars down the rainy blacktop, her sleek paint shining under each streetlight.

 

INT. IMPALA - CONTINUOUS

Dean drums his fingers against the wheel, frowning at the rain. Sam’s hunched over his phone in the passenger seat, reading intently.

                DEAN  
                This doesn’t make any sense. Six hunter deaths --

Sam sits back and rubs a hand over his eyes.

                SAM  
                Seven.

                DEAN  
                Seven?

                SAM  
                Harry Scottfried. Just found his obit.

                DEAN  
                The silver chainsaw guy?

Sam doesn’t answer.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                Okay, seven hunter monster-related deaths --

                SAM  
                -- that we know about --

                DEAN  
                -- in three weeks. What, did all the things out there just decide to start working together? Find a wishing well and start knocking off hunters?

                SAM  
                This is unprecedented.

                DEAN  
                Welcome to 2017.

                SAM  
                Seven hunters are gone. We can’t find Mom, can’t track her phone. Cas is gone  _somewhere_ with Kelly Kline, Mick has slipped off the grid, Ketch is lying to us... I -- I wanna punch something in the face.

                DEAN  
                Good. Hold onto that. ‘Cause something’s knocking off hunters.... And we’re gonna need it.

 

INT. HELL - THRONE ROOM - DAY

Crowley’s ever-burning candles supplement the harsh white light that fills the throne room through the grated skylight. An UNFORTUNATE DEMON stands with his shoulders hunched, exposed in the middle of the room while Crowley paces around him.

                CROWLEY  
                How many times do I have to repeat myself. Find me Kelly Kline!

He stops pacing behind the demon, who flinches involuntarily.

                CROWLEY (CONT’D)  
                As a concept, it’s ridiculously simple. AS ARE YOU!

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                Please don’t yell. I’m trying!

                CROWLEY  
                     (mocking)  
                ‘I’m trying.’ Well try harder! As if your almost-life depended on it.

He starts walking again as the demon bends in a half-bow.

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                Yes, my King.

                CROWLEY  
                Bear down. What do you know?

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                Dagon is dead and can’t protect Kelly.

                CROWLEY  
                Which makes your task even easier.

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                We know Lucifer’s son is almost due.

                CROWLEY  
                Which makes your task more crucial.

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                We know we don’t know how powerful he’ll be when born.

                CROWLEY Which makes you an idiot.

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                We know that too.

Crowley starts to pace again. The demon is too frightened to turn around.

                CROWLEY  
                Apparently you, and the legion of dimwits I’ve assigned to this task haven’t been motivated properly. Follow me.

Now the demon turns, his face white with horror.

                UNFORTUNATE DEMON  
                Are you going to skin me alive, Sire?

                CROWLEY  
                Would it be that simple?

He starts backing toward the door, the demon following him.

                CROWLEY (CONT’D)  
                I have to remind you, and your team of screw-ups, of the pride of superior work, the thrill of pleasing me. The gratification of living one more day.

Crowley turns and leads his scrooge through the door.

 

INT. BUNKER - WAR ROOM - NIGHT

Sam types loudly at the table while Dean paces, his phone to his ear and a scowl on his face.

Crowley picks up. Dean hears someone screaming in the background and stops pacing in surprise.

                CROWLEY (O.S.)  
                What?

                DEAN  
                Uh.

Sam looks up, frowning. He hears the faint, tinny echo of a scream when Dean jerks the phone a few inches away from his ear.

                DEAN (CONT’D)  
                What are you doing?

                CROWLEY (O.S.)  
                Teaching. What do you want?

Dean rubs his eyes.

                DEAN  
                Listen, a lot of hunters have been dying lately.

                CROWLEY (O.S.)  
                I’m sorry, is this supposed to upset me?

                DEAN  
                We were just wondering if you know anything about any coordinated attacks....

                CROWLEY (O.S.)  
                I have more important things to do right now than go after your baby army. Namely, the baby devil in your back yard!

Dean pulls the phone further away from his ear.

                DEAN  
                Okay, okay. Geez.

He hangs up and looks at Sam with a shrug.

 

INT. BRITISH MEN OF LETTERS - PRISON CELL - DAY

Mary runs a hand over the thin cuts on her arm. She looks ill, her face sweaty and her eyes distant.

FLASH of the Bunker through a predator’s eyes. Through Mary’s eyes.

FLASH of Dean, transforming into a werewolf.

FLASH of Mary with a silver knife. Holding it over her son.

Mary jumps as the door BEEPS and opens. TONI BEVELL enters, wearing a black dress like she wore when torturing Sam.

                TONI  
                Oh, Mary. Haven’t been sleeping well?

                MARY  
                Did something happen last night?

                TONI  
                Could you be more specific?

                MARY  
                Did I leave this building?

Toni is enjoying herself, basking in her power.

                TONI  
                Well, you would know that better than I.

Her eyes narrow.

                TONI (CONT’D)  
                Unless you’re having trouble distinguishing reality from your imagination. Is that what’s going on, Mary?

                MARY  
                I’m fine.

It’s a Winchester “fine,” and Toni knows it. She approaches Mary, leans close.

                TONI  
                Are you?

FLASH of Toni filling a syringe, liquid lashing out.

FLASH of a needle piercing a taut neck.

FLASH of Mary, bound to a metal chair, a bite guard in her mouth, a scream faint behind it.

Mary refocuses on Toni.

                MARY  
                You’re brainwashing me?

She rises to her feet, hunching slightly. Toni turns her back.

                TONI  
                You’re being realigned. Soon you won’t differentiate between your thinking and ours. You will think clearly, for once.

                MARY  
                What's that supposed to mean? 

                TONI  
                This illusion of yourself that you cling onto, Mary. The perfect life: loving husband, kids.

Mary shifts as Toni’s eyes narrow.

                TONI (CONT’D)  
                But it never really was perfect, was it? All those secrets you kept from your beloved John.

Toni closes in, and Mary looks away.

                TONI (CONT’D)  
                After you died... Your beloved John was a man slowly going mad, searching for revenge.

Anger flashes into Mary’s face.

                TONI (CONT’D)  
                What, your boys didn’t tell you? The drunken rages, the weeks of abandonment. Child abuse, really. It’s no wonder they’re damaged. With you as a mother, and without.

Toni perks up, clapping her hands together.

                TONI (CONT’D)  
                So, it’s time to repeal and replace your little fairy tale. We are returning you to a more pure version of yourself. You’re not a mother, and you never were. You’re Mary Campbell - natural born killer.

                MARY  
                No.

                TONI  
                You may think so now. Soon you won’t be thinking at all.

She exits. The light on the door turns red behind her.

**END OF ACT ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duration: 12 minutes  
> Total time: 15 minutes


End file.
